


月亮的花瓣 (Petals of the Moon)

by AliceinHyruleBastion



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (i'm a slut for those), F/M, Fix-it(sorta), Flower meanings!!!, Growing Up, It's bittersweet sap this time y'all, other vague mentions of other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceinHyruleBastion/pseuds/AliceinHyruleBastion
Summary: Time is cruel, hand-in-hand with it's twin sisters Fate and Destiny.This is a look as two cursed souls follow each other through those cursed lives, and childhood affections grow to slow love through the petals of flowers.





	月亮的花瓣 (Petals of the Moon)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again!   
> This is another LunaNoct drabble I wrote for a friend of mine, and I decided to implement flowers and prose (sorta) this time.  
> I hope you enjoy, and as always comments and critiques are always appreciated!
> 
> (Two notes: one, if I got the incorrect meaning for a certain flower, please let me know and I will fix it! Two, though I am a Chinese student of three-almost four- years, let me know if I hecked up the title. This goes for another fic I'll be posting, so please don't hesitate to comment!!)

_-Yellow and White Roses_

Small, innocent, and sweet-the both of them- running through castle halls or gardens or through the lovely fields of Tenebrae, hand in hand and heart in heart. Breathless with laughter, they talk for hours upon hours about history and mythology and just _fun_ things, forgetting for once in their chaotic lives that their blood is so painfully indigo. He barely eight and she twelve, they are free and young and pure, tied by sweetly-stained red strings of fate linked by their intertwined pinkies as they run barefoot through the halls chased by the laughter of the king.

 

 The visit is short however, as duty calls the young prince and his father back to Insomnia, and the two are pulled apart once more. He promises to return soon, and she takes his hands in hers with a smile on her face. She knows the distance will hurt, but promises in return to write to him via the book she had surprised him with the day he had arrived. He smiles, such a lovely sight to see on a face normally dark with disinterest, the sight bright like fireflies in a nighttime forest.

 

As they leave, he shyly hands her an armful of flowers, the yellow and white petals turning into gold and pearls as she laughs in delight at the gift. 

 

_(Yellow roses, the symbol of friendship, chased by the white petals of purity.)_

 

_-White Stargazer Lilies and Pink, Red, and Blue Alstroemerias_

The next visit was not as happy. 

Though the time between the two was blissfully short, their happy reunion was shattered the minute the metal monsters of Niflheim had rained down like poisonous thunder, trailing death and destruction in their wake. The queen had fallen with her kingdom, and with it the purity of her only son as he was tainted with the strain of cruel revenge, and her daughter forced to watch as her home and her family fell in flames in front of her, the lovely spiraling castle 

she had once explored with her friend was now a dark dungeon.

 

She had been forced to watch as that same friend, already shattered by the loss of his mother and the use of his legs, was ripped away from the last place he had also called home, that little red string pulled painfully taut as he watched her bright figure fade in the distance like the lights of the sea drowning in the tide. 

She doesn't remember what his lovely smile looks like anymore, and barely remembers her own.

 

Yet, even in the incarceration of her brother's presence and her fallen kingdom, there is one light: the little red notebook on the back of her faithful puppy, filled with the silent symphony that is the prince of Lucis. _This_ was where that smile had gone, melted down into ink and paper. 

For the first time in a long time, she smiles.

 

The next entry in the notebook was tied together in a lovely wreath of gorgeous white lilies, the creamy petals intertwined by the smaller speckled petals of red, blue, and pink. Both flowers were lovely lilies, yet both sang different songs he understood better than troublesome words.

 

_(The flower of grief, the lonely white lily, set off by her brightly colored triplets of comfort, care, and concern.)_

 

_-Red and Pink Camellias_

Time became cruel, and months stretched into years without each other, and they were forced to watch the other grow up through paper and snatched meetings on television screens. And yet, that precious tightrope of crimson still tied their hearts together, and she watched as his affections become subtler, harder to find, but so much deeper like a ringing brass bell in the depths of the ocean. She could feel her own heart changing as well, until they were two milky seas pulled apart by clashing tides, so close but painfully far. 

 

She knew now, as year twelve of separation rang in through the city streets, that the little spark in her heart she had held all these years had only grown and changed, earning a new name as it blossomed like a flower dripped in moonlight:

It was love, she now knew.

 

She wonders if he feels the same.

She wonders if he's noticed.

She wonders if he still remembers their time together.

 

Messages have been sparser, his words now shorter and rushed, that childish slant more upright and clear, though the distinctive lazy slide of the letters is still evident, like a memento mori of his younger self. She laughs at the familiar script as she reads about the new friends he's made, and she can tell just how deeply they've made their way into his heart. 

 

It's nearly a month before the next message comes in, and this time Umbra has a collar of bright pink and red flowers tied around his neck, the rounded petals soft and shiny. She pauses as she recognizes the flowers, and sees that shy boy who gave her a bouquet of yellow and white roses so long ago in the small, almost embarrassed script at the end his new note: _I miss you, Luna._

 

Four simple words that looked as if they were hastily added at the last minute, as if he didn't want to admit it- like he wasn't certain of what he felt.

As she ran her fingers gently over the new flowers, she smiled as she imagined the watercolor of the petals trapped in the skin of his cheeks.

 

Her questions, her worries, her fears were (mostly) quieted. She'll let him figure it out in time.

 

_(The pink camellia, the color of longing, and red the twin of simplicity in love.)_

 

- _Gloxinias_

That little flower she held deep in her heart only bloomed deeper and darker, lovely in every facet as it spilled to her outsides, coloring her every action.

 

She was a person who walked the path of her heart, and it was the part of her that carved the unforeseen path in front of her out of darkness, the skies lit by the trailing red thread that sang across miles of war-torn land. She did not let anything discourage her and stood tall, letting her duty and her love-not just for Noctis- guide her, bringing light and beauty back into the world like a tide of sunlight. 

 

As the war spiraled higher and higher into a chaotic symphony, the messages had stopped, but she knew now that he had not forgotten her. She had her duty to the people and he had his, and she would be patient and unselfish. He was not alone, she knew, and thanked the gods for the three spots of light they had granted him, lighting his path like glowing cobblestones. 

 

The next message came not from Noctis, but from his friend Prompto, of whom she had learned was the kind young boy who had rescued Pyrna so many years ago. It was a simple note that asked if she remembered him, and described what had been happening inside of Insomnia in the last few months. The final part of the letter was an apology on Noctis' behalf for not being able to respond, and her eye caught on the scrawl at the bottom:

" _He also asked me to send this to you, and though he wouldn't tell_ me _what it was, he said you'd know."_

Pressed onto the back of the letter was a single blossom of rich violet petals run through with white.

Her heart sang as she recognized the flower, and she folded the note to her chest and closed her eyes, a smile dawning on her face. 

 

_(Gloxinias, the flower of love at first sight and realization.)_

 

_-Forget-Me-Nots and Sylleblossoms_

Twelve long, long years of waiting and longing, hearts beating to a bell forged long ago, and finally, _finally_  she gets to see him again. 

 

While she's seen pictures and videos of him, she hadn't really realized just how he's _grown_  until he was right in front of her. He's much taller than her now, and he's filled out his body, face thinner but still soft, and eyes still the same sweet blue she remembered from all those years ago. His hair was still an untamable mess of black, but it suited him better than anything else could have. 

He was like a fallen star forged in the heart of the sea.

 

As she made her way toward him, she saw him pause and _smile,_ the edges of it clumsy and shy but _real_ and happy, something she hadn't seen since before the fall of Tenebrae. As she reached him, she lifted a single hand and gently cupped his cheek, as if she wasn't certain he was real, and felt him start at the gesture before leaning into the motion. 

 

_Home, home, home,_ her heart sang, that silly little string of theirs no longer pulled taut as it relaxed in loops and whorls of melody. 

 

"It's so good to see you," she said quietly-candidly-and that smile brightened.

 

"Me too," he answered simply after a pause of breath, and she shook her head at the response, a laugh on her tongue.

 

"Succinct as always," she teased, and he laughed then, the sound like molten silver. 

 

"You know I'm no good with words."

 

She smiled, remembering the flowers she'd pressed between the pages of that red book. "I know."

 

On that day, so happy and final and resolute, she was given a bouquet of gorgeous blue, a  a swirl of indigo and tiny sky blue petals blending together like the depths of the ocean that left her breathless.

 He'd had the exact same face of shy embarrassment as the first time he'd given her flowers, though this time they were not given as a goodbye gift.

 

No, these were a declaration, a statement, an exclamation point from the mouth of one who struggled with words dipped in emotion.

These were beauty's incarnate in the purest fashion.

 

These were three simple words that had more depth than any ink could ever have:

_I love you._

 

_(The small iridescent forget-me-nots of unconditional love, paired with the royal blue of the heart of the woman he loved.)_


End file.
